


The Wasteland

by JAvatar



Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: Cannibalism, Dolcett - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Hunting, Multi, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Torture, Vore, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 20:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20784704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JAvatar/pseuds/JAvatar
Summary: Just a tale of some people trying to survive the post-nuclear wasteland that is Fallout, taking place in the Oklahoma area.





	The Wasteland

He hated and loathed them. For years, their stares, their whispers, that waiting. It’d been decades since the glow, since the pain, since the mutation. And not once did he growl, not once did he lash out. Even when they threw stones at him. He was patient, calm, gentle, worked when they would let him. Eking out meager caps, living in that damned shack. Even when the smoothies would break things, the towns would of course blame him. Why not. After all, he was the ghoul.  
  
But in spite of that hate and loathing, even he didn’t want...this. The tavern in flames. Homes blown to smitherines. Laser fire destroying life and limb. The Brotherhood of Steel were more malicious than the townspeople, harder….eviler. As the ghoul listened to the screams of pain, wails of grief, looking at his own legs twitch from a dozen feet away, feeling his own heart growing weaker and weaker, he wished….no. Prayed. To whatever gods or demons that may be...that that order of tin soldiers with god complexes meet someone as horrible as they, and made them as helpless as the town who owned a half-dozen hunting rifles between the forty people living there had been.  
  
The squad marched on, through what used to be Oklahoma. It had been over two hundred years since the bombs dropped. Since the world vanished. And the Brotherhood sought to reclaim the glory years of before the war. Those wasteland dwellers, the enclave, the vault dwellers? They just stood in the way of progress. It was violent, collecting and studying history and technology, but it was needed. And sometimes, just sometimes, one of those wastes saw the glory of their mission.   
  
Cade, the leader of the squad, didn’t turn, but knew one such person. As the four men and two women trudged on, servos whirring and hydraulics hissing, their power armor in various states of disrepair and wear, weapons at the ready, Cade could only grin. Their seventh, their “scribe.” Ava, or some such. The girl was a wastelander, and the squad had come upon her, and she had a laser pistol. It wasn’t much, but it certainly did not belong in her hands. They were ready to waste her, when she had surrendered.   
  
The tall brunette had been surrounded, easily, looking at those lethal weapons all trained on her. Cade went through the normal spiel, “Wastelander, you have been found guilty of hoarding technology unfit for your hands. You will,” but he broke off, she had knelt, eyes wide, laying the pistol on the ground, hands up, backing away.   
  
“I’m sorry, Sir, please, forgive me?” The men all looked at each other. This woman was certainly softer than the two women in the squad, but looked like a survivor. Leathers encased her legs and arms, wrapping around her torso, but the fit was off, instead of effectively protecting her bust, it just amplified it. The worn shirt under the armor was tattered, showing her stomach, and the pants a little too tight. Evelyn, at the wastelander’s six o’clock, was even eying her up and down. Then, Cade noticed, the slight grin on the brunette’s face, “Is there...anything...I can do to earn your forgiveness?” Jones, the second, voiced, “She’s actually asking for it, Sir. Literally.”   
  
First, Alex came up, and Cade wondered if there would be enough left to enjoy, as the power armored fist came down across her back. Alex was a sadist, and not a very good one, enjoying just the sheer violence of it. The brunette had screamed out as her head was planted in the mud, then that boot came down, pressing her face into the mud, sealing her mouth and nose, his voice hard, “Should have stayed in the mud like the pig you are.” He leaned down, that fist open, the sound of metal on leather and cloth painfully loud as he slapped her ass. The mud had a bubble, her scream of pain audible, before Jones and Evelyn both stepped up. Alex relented, stepping off.   
  
The pair took their time, uncaring about the bruises Alex, or even they, left on her, ripping the armor off instead of unlatching it, shredding her clothes. Those strips were used to tie her wrists behind her back, then the two shifted their armor. The groin pieces opened, designed for easy waste disposal, without sacrificing protection or wasting energy in processing the waste. And in moments like this, with the brunette’s cries drown as her face was shoved in Evelyn’s crotch, Jones burying himself to the hilt in spite of not being ready or receptive, that they enjoyed the benefits of that modular design. “Lick me, wastelander, or you won’t live long enough to begin to enjoy this,” the hard, near psychotic voice in that armor, as the plasma pistol primed, attenuation dish aimed at the wastelander’s head.   
  
Of course, she did. Perhaps Ava thought she’d get a fun gangbang, lose her pistol, and that’d be that. But she knew now, she would die, without fail, if she did not please them. She began, in earnest, trying to please the woman as the man pounded her. There was something though...about the true helplessness...the inevitability of death...that piqued her. Quickly enough, Jones’ shaft was slick, slamming into her faster and harder, those cries turning into moans, her licking becoming...eager. Without hesitating, she could feel that swell, spasm, and those hands clenched her bound wrists and her waist, burying himself in her fully, that heat of release deep inside her. He kept spasming behind her, draining himself fully, before Evelyn’s own pleased gasps, moans, and groans drowned out Ava’s.   
  
Julie wasn’t into women or this sort of show, instead taking up patrol with Alex. Once Evelyn was finally pleased, the two made Ava clean Jones’ shaft with her mouth, sucking out the last of his seed and her own juices. Then, she was thrown into the mud again, and Zack took his turn. “Because you were so sweet to me,” came Evelyn’s voice, before the thick cold of some oil they had found oozed between her cheeks and then lips, telling Ava how hard and probably large the man was, her voice choked, “Thu-thu-thank you!” she cried, before screaming as she was split. In spite of Jones, Zack’s thrust HURT, like he was too hard. Evelyn giggled, “Yeah, that implant just doesn’t give like a real cock.” Like the others, there was no gentleness in taking her, slamming into her hard, over and over, his own boot on her head. She had turned her face, but was still half-sunken into that grime, trying to breathe, the searing pain all she could feel. Finally, she felt him spasm, then filled her, yelling out in triumph, pumping her full as though to breed. He pulled out, “Nice, tight pussy,” he drawled, before wiping himself clean using her hair, sealing his armor, and joining the patrol.   
  
Evelyn’s armored hands grabbed her, putting the pained and used woman on her knees in front of Cade now. His laser pistol was primed, the capacitor humming. The brunette shivered in front of him, eyes on that helmet, not her death, even as the barrel pressed against her temple. “P...please...sir. I want to live. I’ll do anything!” His helmet tilted down, voice hard, quiet, “Swear fealty to the Brotherhood.” She nodded, quickly, “I do! I swear fealty to the Brotherhood of Steel!” She was quick to actually say the words, leaving nothing to chance. Cade looked to Evelyn, who shrugged, “Our scribe did get ripped in half by that super mutie. And this one’s cuter than he was.” Cade nodded, looking back at her, his hand opening the modular piece. Seeing her hurt, crying, and used, and still swear loyalty? That more than anything made him want her. Evelyn pulled her up, turned her around, spreading her legs, forcing her to reverse cowgirl straddle the commander’s lap, then pulled up her legs, letting her fall an impale herself. That power armor grabbed her, and began to raise and lower her like a toy on him. “Thank the commander, scribe!”   
  
The last bit of resistance and fear of death left her, her orgasms hard as she screamed, “Thank you commander! Use me as you and the Brotherhood need!” It did not take long with her words over and over before Cade filled her himself, his own arms around her to hold her down as his hips thrust up, draining himself. “Your body and life are now the Brotherhood’s. To use, and throw away, as we see fit!” Ava could only nod, screaming out another blissful orgasm.   
  
That was a month ago, and Ava had done her job well. She knew how to read, as well as how to work computer terminals. She also did her best to keep their armor and weapons up to snuff, and every night was used by one squadmate or another. Even razing that town of the unworthy who tried to hide that aborration and the few fusion cells only made her hesitate slightly. Soon, they would be in OKC, and they could properly reoutfit and resupply. But first, one of the larger towns, Lawton.   
  
The squad made it to one of the local bars, Lawton somehow making a moderately decent living for its inhabitants. The exchange of caps for drink and food, the seven taking the largest table, enjoying staying among the civilized people for a change. Ava ate in silence, not wanting to draw the attention of her brothers or sisters today. That town they had leveled...they had three fusion cells. Three. It would have only take fifty caps to buy them. Instead, the six had killed almost the entire town, taking the time to rip that poor ghoul in half. He wasn’t feral, he was begging them to just leave the town, and Alex and Zack just...ripped him in half. But, the brunette knew if she said...anything...she would die.   
  
She looked up as Cade turned to her, “Sister Ava, while we are here, we each will have our own room. You as well. See if there is any history that we have not already gleaned.” His armor hissed, his arm shifting, and he handed her a 10mm pistol, as well as a couple dozen caps in a small bag. “Four days, we march.” She swallowed, thankful for the mouthful of food, and nodded as she took the weapon and money.   
  
Four days away from them, she was thankful. She went to one of the buildings, the locals directed her...a library. For two days, she hummed, sorting through books that had not been burned to hell, searching through computer archives, downloading and packaging the books and data she knew would be valuable. The dusk of the second day, though, she was interrupted, jumping at the man standing in the doorway, dropping her books.   
  
He was tall, but with the sun behind him, she could only see the shadows of his frame, his voice gentle, “Well, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize anyone would be in here!” He came in, wearing a blue jumpsuit with a large yellow...a vault dweller? He collected her books, sorting them as they had been, she saw his sandy blonde hair, those blue eyes, crooked nose. “I like to come here, get away from everyone. Please, don’t let me interrupt your work.” That easy smile seemed off, though, and something deep inside her screamed to run, when his eyes went to the top volume, “Oh! Collecting advanced thermodynamics and metaphysics?” She stood as he did, and he was off, deeper into the library, to a hall she hadn’t gotten to, coming back with three books, in pristine condition! Two were already in her hands, but the new copies were full and undamaged, and the third was advanced fusion! She nodded in thanks, taking the books, “Thank you! How..I mean…”   
  
The man just laughed, shaking his head, “I like to explore, that hall is my favorite. These are the only books you’ll find interesting, though. I’ll stay out of your hair, if you stay out of mine, though. I’d hate to anger your..friends.” That easy smile still frightened her, but she understood his meaning. He went back to the doorway, taking a large case, as she went back to her desk and he vanished down the hall. The minutes drug to hours, the sun setting. She stood, stretching, and looked down that hall. It was quiet, but she knew he was still down there. She couldn’t figure out why he was so unsettling. He was in a vault jumpsuit, but was unarmed, unless something was in that case. He spoke quietly, easily, gently. But...what was it that set her off?  
  
She checked her pistol, Cade had at least properly armed her, the clip full, and she was a good shot with pistols. Was this man hiding more books? Actual tech? If she didn’t explore, and it came out later there was something..it was her head. Quiet as she could, she went down that hall. There were the normal bookshelves, torn, burnt, damaged books. But, at the end, she came on a door. It was repaired, recently, thick, and she thought she heard something on the other side. Slowly, she opened the door, pistol at the ready, before a strangled cry left her throat.  
  
There, on a table, was a woman, young, possibly in her early twenties. She was naked, trussed up, wrists bound tightly to her biceps, ankles to thighs, then her legs and arms bound to her torso. The scent of cooking meat filled the room, and the girl had a metal rod through her...but not just through her stomach. She was on a spit rod, one end coming out her mouth, the other coming out her pelvis, most likely her sex. Ava stared wide-eyed, in shock, and saw the wires, realizing that the spit itself was live, heated...and roasting the woman from the inside. Trembling with shock and fear, she stepped into the room, that pistol only lightly held in her hand, coming closer, trying to convince herself that this was a prank, or a prop, when that girl’s eye moved, looking at her, fingers wiggling. She was still being cooked alive!  
  
A few tiny noises made it out her mouth, Ava could tell she was dead already, her body and brain just had not realized it. A quick glance showed she was alone with this poor woman, and she leveled the pistol at the victim’s head. Somehow, those lips pulled into a smile, eyes closing, accepting the mercy, before the thundercrack of the pistol firing echoed in the room, painfully loud, crimson blood and brains painting the wall behind the girl. She turned, ready to flee, to get Cade, and saw that heavy door had shut behind her, she never even noticed it...and there was no latch or handle on this side. Then, softly, sadly disappointed, “You ruined my meal.” She turned, raising the gun, that blonde stranger in the jumpsuit standing a half-dozen feet away, looking at the still cooking corpse. There was no anger in his face, no dangerous edge screaming  _ predator! _ Instead, he almost looked like a child who had dropped a sweet treat into a pile of horse crap.


End file.
